Our Songs of Longing and Otherness
by sweet little nightmare
Summary: A series of drabbles with the themes of 'longing' and 'otherness'. They'll be short, but there'll be a lot of them, and I'll update these realy regularly. All characters will be included! Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Wicked, **_**la la la…**

**A/N: I'm feeling the urge for some little thematic drabbles at the moment, so here we go – moments past, present and future, based on **_**Wicked.**_** Some will be musicalverse, some bookverse, and some – of course – AU! Please review!**

One

Stars

"Here," Elphaba holds out the yellow ribbon, "do you want me to -?"

It's a simple enough act of kindness, a girl helping her younger sister get ready for a big night, but Nessa does not see it that way.

"No!" she snatches the ribbon from the older girl, eyes burning with fierce embarrassment and bitterness. Deftly, she ties the ribbon into her delicately spiralling chestnut locks.

"You look beautiful," Elphaba offers, trying to keep the peace, "like a star."

Nessa does not smile. "Yes," she says, very softly, "like a star."

Like a star, beautiful and cold and distant.

And so very alone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing…**

**Here's an Elphie chapter to keep y'all happy! :)**

Two

These Paper Friends

The window seat in the library is much colder these days. It could be the crack in the window-pane, but Elphaba cannot help suspecting, in her particular logical way, that this is not the only reason for her not wanting to sit there. She'll be in the middle of a pivotal chapter in whatever book she happens to be reading, and suddenly her thoughts will stray to her classmates. Galinda. Boq. Fiyero.

They are sitting together somewhere, she imagines, talking animatedly, possibly getting all psyched up for some social event or other.

She does not want to be one of them. She doesn't. She doesn't.

Chapter eight. Come on now, Elphaba, you love this story. It's an old favourite of yours. What is wrong with you?

Put them out of your mind. You can never be like them. These dusty tomes are your only real friends.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it? I'm not Gregory Maguire, or Winnie Holzmann, or anyone like that…**

**A/N: I wanted to give you a male perspective this time, and one you don't hear all that often, so here we go – Frexspar Thropp, this is your moment!**

Three

Eternal

_Love springs eternal. Hope springs eternal. God is eternal._

These things are true, Frex tells himself fervently. They really are true. He stands in front of a crowd, their faces upturned, expectant, and tries to conjure the faith he had felt so ardently in his youth.

"People of Munchkinland…"

In some corner of his mind, he sees Melena; her head thrown back, her mouth open in laughter. Melena as he first knew her. Their love had died before she did, and yet somehow he still yearns for her presence, for her bitterness and her mood-swings, her harsh words and her rare smiles.

"…you are all the messengers of God…"

Oh, yes, of course love springs eternal.

But it doesn't, does it? And he knows that all too well.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Y'all know the drill; I don't own **_**Wicked,**_** lah di dah…**

**A/N: This one's a Shiz-era, musicalverse, post-Lion-cub-incident drabble, just so you know!**

Four

She Holds Her Silence

When Galinda walks into the cafeteria, her blonde hair bouncing about her shoulders, the others are already waiting for her at their usual table by one of the tall, narrow windows. She hovers expectantly for a few moments, waiting for the customary smiles and waves that mark her arrival, but while every _other_ eye in the cafeteria is on her, her friends do not appear to even have noticed her.

Elphaba is leaning slightly forward in her seat, talking animatedly to Fiyero. That in itself is odd, given that Elphie has always considered the prince to be… what was it again? Oh, yes, shallow and brainless. Just the other night, she'd complained that he was 'completely incapable of independent thought', and now here she was talking to him like they were lifelong friends.

And Fiyero? He is _listening. _Actually listening to her, his blue eyes fixed raptly on her face. What is this? What is going on?

Mentally shaking herself, Galinda hurries briskly over to join them. Elphaba, still ranting about Morrible and what an evil persecutor of Animals she is, does not even register her arrival. Fiyero's eyes flick briefly over to her and he offers a brief smile before turning back to the green girl. Galinda considers interrupting, but she does not trust herself to speak. Hard, hot jealousy is roiling in the pit of her stomach, the like of which she has never felt before.

So she holds her silence, trying ineffectually to dispel the feeling of isolation that is creeping over her.

**A/N: So, this one was a little longer than the others, because I needed to fit everything into it – but what did you all think? Likey? No likey? You know where the little green button is… :D**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, la la la…**

**A/N: This one's a bookverse drabble about Fiyero contemplating his arranged marriage, and the family he was thus forced to be a part of. Hope you all like it!**

Five

Words Bridging Worlds

There is ink and paper in front of him, but he cannot seem to find the right words. What can he say to the woman who waits for him so many miles away in Kiamo Ko? How can he write to this woman, his _wife, _when tonight he will lay beside Elphaba and forget that anyone else exists but the two of them, in their rush of their beautiful secret?

He continues to be a part of that family, and yet he is not one of them. His world and theirs have spiked off in completely different directions, spinning around different suns. _I was forced into it,_ he tells himself, remembering Sarima's heavy-lidded eyes and slow smile, _I was not meant to marry Sarima. That isn't my fault._

Slowly, he begins to write the words that in his heart he does not feel. In reality, this letter will reach its recipient in perhaps a week or so; they are not _so_ far apart.

And yet. And yet there are worlds between Fiyero and his family. Whole worlds.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't have the sheer genius to own a musical masterpiece, ok? :)**

**A/N: Musicalverse, crazy chanting time (i.e. No Good Deed). Prepare to be depressed and distressed! (I would say 'enjoy', but…)**

Six

Her Curse

Why can she not do this? Just this! She asks for nothing more! Nothing more than to be able to save at least _one_ person she cares about!

These words have no meaning. They trip off her tongue and she knows without a second thought that they are useless. There is nothing she can do. In the hot, thick air she chokes back a scream, her bony hands feverishly flipping pages in the Grimmerie. There must be _something!_

There is a curse on her that sets her apart from everyone else, she realises, and it is more than simply the curse of her green skin. Everything she touches, everything she cares about, she breaks. That is the true curse. She is doomed to destroy anyone who means anything to her.

The last page of the Grimmerie flutters to join its brethren, and Elphaba slams the book shut with all her strength.

"Fiyero!"

The name saws itself free of her throat in a last frenzied cry of hopeless desperation.

There is no way she can help him now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I'm sure you know how it goes by now; I own nothing…**

**A/N: I'm feeling a little star-struck unrequited love oneshot coming on here, so bear with me people, Blinda drabble coming right up…**

Seven

Oblivious

He has been persistent. For Oz's sake, one might even say he's been completely and utterly dogged! And yet still she remains oblivious.

With Nessa by his side, Boq watches Miss Galinda being whirled around the Ozdust Ballroom by that idiot prince. Galinda's face is alight with exuberant pleasure, and she is gazing at Fiyero as though he is the only person in the room. In the entire world, even.

What wouldn't he give to be the one dancing with Galinda, the one her world revolved around? He knows the answer to that without even having to think about it: anything. He'd give anything. It's pathetic, really, but that doesn't soften the ache he feels when he looks at her with him. The ache of longing that never goes away.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Je ne ownais pas **_**Wicked, **_**or something like that**

**A/N: I know, I know, it's been a while! This one's a musicalverse Wizard-centric drabble... enjoy!**

Eight

Moral Ambiguities

His daughter. She was his _daughter._

He wonders how this hasn't occurred to him before. It's been many years since he thought of the night he spent with Melena Thropp. It's been so long since he's fallen into the tunnel of those dark eyes. Still, how has it escaped his notice that the Witch – that _Elphaba – _has eyes like those?

Would it have changed anything, he asks himself, if he had known? Would he have been any less quick to disparage her impassioned protestations? Would he have thought twice before poisoning the minds of Oz's ignorant citizens with stories of her wickedness? Surely he would! Surely things would have been different, then.

But he cannot know for certain, so he fumbles these thoughts into the darkest recesses of his mind away from the light. There are precious few at ease with moral ambiguities, anyway.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Much as I love **_**Wicked, **_**I own it not**

**A/N: Re-reading **_**Son of a Witch **_**has put me in mind of a little bookverse Elphie and Liir-ness, so here we go...**

Nine

Shadow

During the long, difficult journey across the Thousand Year Grasslands, the boy is her shadow. Quietly, he follows her everywhere. He's trying to be unobtrusive, but he's a clumsy, fumbling creature, and a sort of mild, buzzing chaos seems to follow him everywhere.

Elphaba is baffled by the boy's persistence. Many times, she has shooed him away distractedly, or tried to frighten him off with harsh words. But nothing seems to work, and she wonders at his doggedness. In all of time, there is no other that has clung to her rather than being repulsed by her. What an oddity! What a hindrance to her peace!

But secretly, in some hidden place within, she smiles. The child has unwittingly given her all she ever wanted.

Acceptance.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Come on, you folks should know by now that I don't own **_**Wicked.**_** Le sigh.**

**A/N: So, this has been the most difficult one so far – musicalverse Morrible! Gosh, it was difficult to get inside her head, but here we go, here's my attempt...**

Ten

Need

Madame Morrible purses her lips and bites back a sigh of frustration. They had come so _close, _so close to having a valuable ally! Thinking of what Elphaba would have been able to help them achieve, and remembering how that spiky firebrand of a girl had reacted to the truth of what the Wizard wanted her to do, well, it's _almost _enough to make her lose her temper. Idiot girl! _Why, _thinks Madame Morrible, incensed, _I thought she had a touch more ambition!_

_Well, _the schoolmistress' already fishy eyes go even rounder as she lights on a plan, _if we can't have her on our side; we just need to think of another use for her..._

The gears of her mind still spinning and whirring ferociously, she hurries off to confer with the Wizard.


End file.
